


Thrown Away

by Wanderingbard3



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A Different Kind of Adventure, An Unexpected Ending to a Night At the Opera, Aziraphale Doesn't Know What To Feed A Baby, Established Relationship, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Insecure Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, The Ineffable Husbands Find a Baby, Two Fathers, Understanding Aziraphale, oodles of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderingbard3/pseuds/Wanderingbard3
Summary: “Uh… sounds like a cat?” he said dismissively, putting a hopeful hand on Aziraphale’s elbow.  “We’re almost home Angel and I thought…”“I don’t think it’s a cat” Aziraphale interrupted, concern filling his sweet face as he disengaged his arm from Crowley’s and started searching out the sound.With a sigh Crowley paused, then, seeing how important it was to Aziraphale, he used a slight miracle to enhance his hearing, and walked confidently toward the closest alley.Behind the dumpster he stopped.  Swallowing his surprise.  “Found it!” he called softly to Aziraphale.





	Thrown Away

Crowley’s long arm was slung over Aziraphale’s shoulder, which happened to be exactly the right height for such a configuration of limbs. They ambled happily along the dark street, first swept along with the rest of the crowd exiting the Royal Opera house, and then eventually, as the crowd dissipated, enveloped by the sleeping city, alone in their blissful post-performance bubble. 

“It’s just so thrilling” Aziraphale gushed, his cheeks flushed with emotion and cold, “the way all the corporeal senses respond to the music, combining to expand the experience into your very… well… soul!”

Crowley made a non-committal and slightly embarrassed sound of agreement from behind his dark glasses. 

“And not just the orchestra, but the singers.” Aziraphale’s praise was still flowing, “You can FEEL their voices, in here” he placed a reverent hand to his chest, rubbing a little bit as if he could push the experience even deeper into his being. 

He looked expectantly over at Crowley, and the demon realized he was waiting for him to take a turn at expressing his thoughts on the subject.

Until Armageddon-that-wasn’t had come and gone, and their respective head offices had gotten a lesson in the power of love, Aziraphale’s experiences of human sensations had been mostly limited to the enjoyment of food, and - heavily influenced by Crowley - drink. Not that that was a bad place to start. There had also been that stint with dancing. Similarly, Crowley’s human sensation experiments had been limited mostly to drink, and driving really fast. 

But since they had helped save the world, and gained some breathing room, and their autonomy, demon and angel had been immensely enjoying the experience of exploring all kinds of sensation together, both corporeal, and spiritual. 

Aziraphale, true to form, explored with the open eagerness of a child, expressing his responses openly and effusively. Crowley, on the other hand, had spent so long learning to keep his feelings to himself, or risk having them used against him, that he still played things much closer to the vest. Especially when sober, and in public. Both of which he was now. 

A slight shimmer of panic slipped through Crowley as he realized the angel was still waiting for him to say something. 

“Uh, yeah, damn good night” Crowley agreed with slightly less eloquence than the angel’s earlier assessment. Despite his embarrassment with the extreme emoting of this particular type of musical presentation, Aziraphale was right, it did cut right to your core and dig around in your gut until even he had been forced to surreptitiously wipe a few tears away over the course of the night’s performance.

He also definitely enjoyed seeing his Angel enjoying himself so completely, all gussied up in impeccable coat tails and gloves. Not to mention the ridiculously adorable antique opera glasses he’d produced from an inner pocket as they settled into their balcony seats. 

Crowley was also surprised, and pleased, to see Aziraphale branching out and exploring color. Tonight’s tuxedo was, of course, a couple decades out of style, but instead of his usual array of light cream, dark cream, and gleaming white, it was a very pastel lilac. The Angel had confessed, as he presented himself dressed in this evening’s outfit, to Crowley, with a half mischievous, half shy smile, that he didn’t think it was quite proper for him to wear white any longer, considering… 

Crowley’s responding grin had definitely been all mischief and he would have wrapped himself around the Angel right there like the serpent he was, if he hadn’t known how much effort Aziraphale had put into making sure his antique tuxedo was wrinkle free. Well, there’d be plenty of time for that later. 

Crowley’s outfit was still pure black from top to bottom, but remarkably less conventional than Aziraphale’s. And it served multiple functions. The first was that it was incredibly comfortable. The second was the way Aziraphale looked at him when he wore it. And the third was that, when combined with some tastefully applied eyeliner, it confused and scandalized London’s more conservative denizens.

His outfit, of course, was and formal kilt suit. Minus the bow tie. Not that Crowley didn’t appreciate a good bow tie. He just preferred that somebody else do the wearing. Well, one particular somebody else to be exact. To top the outfit off, tucked under his arm that wasn’t housed on Aziraphale’s soft shoulder, was the ornate black walking stick the angel had given him not so long ago. It had a silver handle shaped like a serpent’s head, complete with bared teeth and ruby eyes, and, if the need for some swashbuckling ever arose, the body of the cane could be slid off to reveal the rapier inside. Crowley, of course, didn’t need a cane, or a sword. But it was very satisfying to carry, and, on occasions such as this, added an extra element of mystery to his saunter. 

Aziraphale was singing the praises (so to speak) of his favorite aria, when he paused, tilting his head to one side, “Did you hear that?”

Crowley, deep in thought about which layer of delicate lilac fabric he’d like to unwrap first when they got back to the book store, his mind, body, and soul already dipping into a low hum of pleasure at the anticipation of holding his vibrant Angel tight against his eager… well… everything, took a couple moments to fathom what that Angel had just said.

He shook his head, doing his best to focus, “What was that?”

“You heard it too?”

“No Angel, I’m asking what did you just say?”

“Oh, I thought I heard something. Listen…”

His lips pursing into a confused and still slightly distracted frown, Crowley cocked his head. 

Then he heard it. A faint mewling sound. 

“Uh… sounds like a cat?” he said dismissively, putting a hopeful hand on Aziraphale’s elbow. “We’re almost home Angel and I thought…”

“I don’t think it’s a cat” Aziraphale interrupted, concern filling his sweet face as he disengaged his arm from Crowley’s and started searching out the sound.

With a sigh Crowley paused, then, seeing how important it was to Aziraphale, he used a slight miracle to enhance his hearing, and walked confidently toward the closest alley.

Behind the dumpster he stopped. Swallowing his surprise. “Found it!” he called softly to Aziraphale.

Staring up at him with big eyes was a human infant. It whimpered, uncoordinated limbs twitching weakly as it attempted to squirm in its bed of newspaper and soiled clothing scraps, all jammed into a broken down cardboard box. It smelled sour and worse. And Crowley had the oddest urge to pick it up. 

Aziraphale appeared at his shoulder and a combination of horrified pity and beatific love filled his face. “Why, it’s a baby!” he exclaimed, taking a step closer, then turning to Crowley, “What’s it doing out here?”

Crowley shrugged, at a complete loss. 

Aziraphale leaned over, his eyes crinkling up with abject adoration, and Crowley grasped his arm gently. “Wait” he hissed softly through his teeth, trying not to look at the pitiful jumble of limbs and tear streaked face, “You’re supposed to leave it where it is. The parents will be back when they’re done foraging for food”.

“That’s wild animals. Not humans” Aziraphale corrected arrogantly with a sniff, and before Crowley could do more than make an inarticulate sound of protest, Aziraphale plunged his hands into the stinking pile, and scooped the baby into his soft, pastel arms where it settled, staring wide eyed into his face.

Crowley made an exasperated noise “Oh now it’s gonna smell like you. The parent won’t accept it back if it smells like you!” 

“Oh you old silly” Aziraphale dismissed him happily, shifting the baby in his arms. Crowley felt the slight electric crackle in the air that told him the angel was bending reality ever so slightly. The baby’s shivering stilled, the next whimpering inhale relaxed and turned into a proper breath, and the tiny lip that had been quivering, settled into a comfortable pout. The stale smell was also gone, and the rags had rearranged themselves into rather surprised swaddling.

“That’s right little one.” The Angel crooned, “Everything’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” The infant yawned hugely, its eyes drifting closed even before its mouth had, and, turning its head to nestle against the angel’s chest, fell fast asleep.

Aziraphale looked up to find Crowley poking the tip of his cane delicately around in the pile of newspapers and other debris on the ground.

“What are you doing? Aziraphale asked in a whisper.

“Sometimes there’s more than one” Crowley explained without looking up, “No use taking one if we’re gonna leave the rest of the litter behind”

Aziraphale felt a warmth enter his chest that had nothing to do with the tiny ball of life cradled against it. “Good thinking, Crowley dear, but I don’t think you call it a litter when they’re human”

“Well, what do you call it?” Crowley grimaced as something slimey stuck to the end of his walking stick.

“A gaggle I think? Or maybe it’s a pack….” Aziraphale pondered, shifting gently from foot to foot.

Crowley looked skeptical but didn’t disagree.

After a thorough search, when it was clear that this was a solitary mortal child, Crowley turned to Aziraphale. 

“Okay, it’s definitely just the one. What now?” 

“Now we take it home” Aziraphale started confidently down the street,

“We take it home?” Crowley asked incredulously, then had to use near acrobatic skill to avoid walking into Aziraphale who’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“We need something for it to eat.” Aziraphale looked hopefully up at Crowley, “What do we feed it?”

“No. Come on now Aziraphale. You know if we feed it, we’ll never get rid of it”

The angel’s hopeful gaze turned confused, “Why would we want to get rid of it?”

“Uuuuuhhhhhhhhh” Crowley realized in that moment that he was, as usual with the angel, in way over his head, “Oooookaaaay fine. We’ll get it something to eat.”

Aziraphale’s face relaxed with the ease of someone who knows they were going to get their way to begin with, but is still thrilled when it actually happens. Smiling, he changed directions, heading toward the closest all-night news and convenience store, and Crowley slouched behind him in the way of a man-shaped being not entirely sure what just happened.

~ 

“Okay,” Aziraphale announced as they walked through the shop’s door, setting off the electric chime “I remembered what babies eat! We’ll need some clean rags, milk, eggs, honey, and lots of butter.”

Crowley frowned in the middle of picking up a basket, “Uh, that’s not what we need Angel.”

“Yes it is. Trust me, I babysat for a couple of the animals in Eden when their parents needed a break. It was a trick getting some of those black and yellow striped insects to give up some of their honey but you see what I did was…”

“You mean the bees?” Crowley interjected.

“Well yes but this was before Adam named them. Not little Adam. Original Adam.”

Crowley shook his head, “Whatever. But you have it all wrong Angel. What we need is a baby bottle and some formula. And…” he took the honey jar out of Aziraphale’s hand, turning it around to point at the warning on the back of the label, “Never feed honey to an infant”

“Oh” Airaphale’s sales lost their wind. “Well, the dragonlets loved the stuff”

“I’m sure they did” Crowley scowled gently, “But human babies’ tummies are very sensitive…”

Aziraphale held back a smile at Crowley’s use of the word ‘tummy’ and the matronly tone creeping into his voice, bringing back images of nanny Astoreth.

“Just hope this one does better with the bottle than Warlock did.” Crowley muttered, dropping a handful of ‘latex free, bpa free, high performing, low colic, reliable’ baby bottles into the basket, “Used to spend hours trying to get him to take the damn thing while he screamed his hungry little head off.” A bottle brush followed the bottles into the basket, “Then for no reason at all, he’d just give up and drink the stuff down, looking at me all accusatorily like I’d been trying to trick him or something.” Crowley picked up a tin of baby formula and scanned the back of it, “Never seemed to remember either because we’d go through the whole thing all over again a couple hours later. How many pounds would you say that baby is?”.

Aziraphale looked confused again, “What?”

“Never mind… better just get the lot” Crowley scooped an armful of tins into the basket, leaving the shelf bare. Then, still feeling the need to hide such impulses, but at the same time wanting to embrace his new freedom, he thoughtfully put one tin back in case some other poor sap had a baby feeding emergency that night. 

“They eat every couple hours?” Aziraphale stared down at the baby nestled in his arms, and then over at the basket full of formula. 

“Yes” Crowley nodded, “and since you don’t believe in sleeping, you’ll be the one staying up with it tonight” The final vestiges of Crowley’s earlier romantic plans for keeping Aziraphale up all night taunted him one last time then evaporated in the glaring lights of the mini mart.

With a sigh, Crowley gathered up a pack of nappies, tucking them under his arm “Well, that should do it Angel” 

Aziraphale frowned, “We should really use those cloth ones though”

Five separate words tried to exit Crowley’s mouth at the same time and turned into a complicated and unrecognizable sound of protest as he gestured eloquently to the shelf and the nonexistence of such an option in the given circumstances. But all it took was another hopeful, sustained look from Aziraphale accompanied by the slightest hint of a pout, and the plastic package miraculously became the poshist set of reusable nappies currently on the market, wrapped in a soft cotton bag, complete with a handtied ribbon.

“Better?” Crowley’s solicitous expression dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes, thankyou!” Aziraphale smiled brightly and Crowley for the thousandth time wondered if the Angel knew what irony was, or if he was just always so happy to get what he wanted, he didn’t care.

The night clerk rang their purchases up, trying so hard not to stare that he might as well have been. The nappies gave him pause and he scratched his chin, looking for something to scan, “Weird, didn’t even know we carried these” he muttered apologetically. 

Aziraphale shot Crowley a sidelong glance, pursing his lips ever so slightly, “Oh here it is” he announced helpfully, indicating the tag and bar code that had just appeared on the other side of the package. 

“Oh, right” the clerk returned Aziraphale’s friendly smile, but then glanced at Crowley as he rang up the jar of honey, “Uh, none of my business I know, but…” he looked uncertainly between the two strangest customers he’d ever had (and since he usually worked night shifts, that was saying a lot), “I couldn’t help hearing your conversation on the way in. You aren’t planning on feeding this to the… the baby are ya?”

Crowley, who hadn’t noticed the honey jar rematerialize in their pile of purchases turned questioningly to Aziraphale who blushed a little “No, I… that’s for me”

The clerk grinned, “Sweet tooth eh? Me too. Well that’s alright then.”

Crowley handed over some fresh crisp human money that had just materialized in his pocket a moment before he pulled them out. And the clerk handed him back his change with an even warmer smile, “Here you go, and can I say congrats gentlemen. Looks like you’re gonna have your hands full”

Aziraphale beamed back at him “Oh thankyou. You have a pleasant night”

Crowley frowned in a friendly manner not just a little bit tinged with apprehension as he took the sack. “Uh yeah, thanks” 

~

It was well passed midnight before the unlikely trio was anything resembling settled. As the book shop’s door closed behind them, Aziraphale had announced that miracling the baby clean had been all well and good at the time, but that nothing could beat a good old soak. He had immediately put his plan into action, conjuring a copper basin full of warm, soapy water, and an apron that barely handled the splashes and suds that quickly spread in an absurdly wide ring around ground zero. 

Meanwhile Crowley had cleaned and filled a bottle, then collapsed on the well-worn couch in the corner, yellow eyes, hidden behind his glasses, following Aziraphale’s tender administrations. The angel was a natural of course. The infant adored him already, gurgling and making happy baby noises in response to Aziraphale’s running commentary. Well, angels were supposed to be good at that kind of thing, weren’t they? Loving? Caring? Nurturing? Although from Crowley’s experience, and Aziraphale’s too at that, he had concluded that his angel might very well be the only one in all of creation who actually lived up to the title.

Aziraphale settled next to Crowley, the baby once again nestled in the crook of his arm, now wrapped in 100% organic cotton nappies, and Aziraphale’s softest night shirt, smelling like gentle soap and something indescribably sweet and earthy.

“Why does it smell so good?” Aziraphale asked, lowering his face to the vicinity of the baby, and taking a deep breath in through his nose.

“Oh,” Crowley cupped the bottle between his hands, sending heat and extra nutrients into it, “that’s its head. Human baby’s heads smell like that.” Crowley explained noncommittally, turning the bottle over so a drop of formula landed on his wrist. “Don’t know why. Nobody does.”

“What are you doing? Aziraphale asked.

“Checking the temperature” the demon explained without looking up, “Here I’ll show you”

Aziraphale shifted the baby so he could extend his arm, and Crowley turned it palm up, dropping a drip of the milky liquid on the inside of Aziraphale’s wrist,

“I don’t feel anything” the angel protested.

“Exactly. That’s the point. It needs to be body temperature. Not hotter, not colder. Okay,” he offered Aziraphale the bottle, “should be all set” 

Aziraphale looked uncertainly at the bottle, then down at the infant whose mouth had started opening and closing like an urgent guppy. 

“Um… I think maybe you should… I’ve never…”

Crowley only half understood his own hesitation but couldn’t very well refuse to feed a hungry baby. A flutter and ache growing in his chest, he tucked the bottle between his knees, “Okay fine, give it here” 

Beaming, Aziraphale laid the wobbly little thing into Crowley’s arms, adjusting its head in the crook of one skinny elbow. If the baby minded being moved from Aziraphale’s soft embrace, to Crowley’s wiry one, it gave no indication of it. Just stared up at his face, sunglasses and all, and continued to open and close its mouth expectantly. 

“Okay, here goes nothing” Crowley turned the bottle upside down, resting the nipple on the baby’s lower lip, and was surprised and relieved when the little thing latched on so hard, it nearly pulled the bottle out of his hand. 

There was something incredibly… primal about the small weight of the baby in his arm, the way it seemed to lock gazes with him even through his dark glasses, eyes slightly glazed as if the act of feeding created some kind of hypnotic bond. 

“Do you want me to take your glasses Crowley dear?” Aziraphale asked, reaching for them and pulling Crowley back from a slight hypnosis of his own. 

Crowley shook his head, both to clear it, and in disagreement, “Don’t want to… you know… scare it”

“Oh, I don’t think you’d scare it” Aziraphale reassured him softly, but let his hands drop to his sides. 

“Thanks Angel” Crowley glanced up, their eyes meeting, and neither of them was sure if the thankyou was for the offer to help, or for respecting his self-chosen mask. The flutter returned to Crowley’s chest full force. 

“Uh, Angel…” Crowley started softly, “you know we can’t just keep it right?”

“Of course not” Aziraphale answered quickly.

“Somebody might be looking for it.” He pressed gently, “You know… somebody who cares about it”

“I know” the Angel attempted a bright smile which just made him look sadder, and the attempt nearly broke Crowley’s heart.

“We should check in with the police, see if anyone’s made any inquiries”

“Now? But it’s so late…” Aziraphale’s pleading look melted Crowley all over.

“In the morning then.” He said gently.

Azirpahale nodded emphatically, “Absolutely. Yes. First thing… Crowley dear, you didn’t really mean it did you?”

“Mean what Angel?”

“You aren’t going to… go sleep and leave me alone with the baby tonight are you?”

“Weeeelllllll” Crowley couldn’t help teasing the angel but relented quickly at the panic that flitted across his face, “No Angel.” Crowley smiled, and as both hands were occupied with baby and bottle, he leaned over, brushing his lips against his Angel’s. “I’m not going anywhere” he murmured.

“I love you too” Aziraphale answered, returning his kiss, then settling in and stretching an arm around Crowley’s shoulders. 

“Hell of a night out eh?” Crowley grinned widely, gratefully leaning his head back against the angel’s arm as he imagined the picture they made, the two of them, formal wear in shambles, cradling a hungry human infant between them in the candlelight of the old book shop. 

Aziraphale, his gaze taking in Crowley’s grin, and also the fear, and unfathomable insecurity beneath it, could only nod, just this once at a loss for words. 

~

The night passed more quickly than either demon or angel could have imagined. Aziraphale read passages from his favorite books as the demon fed, burped, and rocked the baby. Crowley sang every lullaby he could remember while Aziraphale learned to feed, burp, and clean spit up off his shoulders, vehemently protesting the lyrics to the demon’s nightmare-inducing songs. They changed a fair number of diapers, working as a team to conquer the collective challenge of stink, mess, and squirmy limbs, and took turns miracling them clean again. And Crowley discovered that the baby was, in fact, not afraid of his snake eyes. On the contrary, it seemed quite fascinated by them. When the little human wasn’t eating or creating another mess to be changed, it slept, exhausted by whatever ordeal had led it to the dumpster and its present situation. 

When the first rays of the rising sun began to filter in through the windows of the book shop, a very nervous Angel, and a very twitchy Demon, along with the most contented infant in the history of the world, made their way to the police station. Both Aziraphale and Crowley had changed into their more normal, everyday outfits but still drew attention as they entered the station.

“Um… hello” Aziraphale beamed at the young officer behind the desk, “We found this baby last night and, well, we… it was so late we…”

Crowley gently shushed the angel with a tiny shake of his head, “Allow me.” He uncurled himself from Aziraphale’s side, stepping up to the window, “Police Human” he began commandingly, “does this baby belong to anybody?”

The rookie looked confused, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m following”

“We found this baby.” Crowley said speaking slowly and clearly, “It was wrapped in newspaper behind a dumpster. Is that the kind of thing you humans normally do with your young?”

“Uh, no” the youth stammered, “where did you say you found it?

“In the garbage kid” Crowley growled, as, behind his dark glasses, yellow began to take over his eyes, “does that seem right to you?”

This time it was Aziraphale’s turn to put a gentle hand on Crowley’s arm, “Um,” he smiled reassuringly at the officer, “what my dear Crowley is trying to ask is… to your knowledge, has anybody reported a missing child”

“I, I’ll… uh just get my supervisor” the young man stammered, nearly upsetting his chair in his haste to either escape the tall man in black’s accusing grimace, or fulfill anything his sweet-faced partner holding the baby wanted. Probably both. He returned a moment later with an older, more grizzled member of the force. 

“Come on back to my office” the human invited them, buzzing them through and waving them toward a cubicle in the corner. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

“No problem” Aziraphale smiled reassuringly again, “We just wanted to see if anybody had reported a missing baby”

“This one here?” the officer asked.

“Yes” Aziraphale turned the little one so the officer could see its face, but his arms tightened slightly at the same time.

The officer shook her head “Nope, not in the last couple days. Maybe a different precinct. I’ll have to do some checking around. In the meantime, I’ll give social services a call to come get the baby, and I’ll take your statement before you leave.” She looked them up and down as if trying to decide if they were mere witnesses, or possibly baby thieves. 

The Demon took one look at the tears welling up in Aziraphale’s eyes and a low growl escaped his throat, “Let me handle this” he hissed under his breath, then sashed past, planting himself between Aziraphale and the police officer.

“You don’t need to take the baby away” he told the human with a bright, reassuring grin.

Her expression filed with relief, “I don’t need to take the baby away” she agreed.

“It can stay with us until you figure out who its family is”

“Oh that’s so good to hear” the officer agreed, putting her note pad away. 

~

A couple minutes later, after leaving a dna sample, and both the number to the book shop and Crowley’s cell, one proud demon, and one slightly baffled but brilliantly happy angel left the police station.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Aziraphale’s brow furrowed, “What did that nice woman mean when she asked if the baby was a boy or girl? And why did you tell her it was a girl?”

“Oh,” Crowley hunched his shoulders in embarrassment, lowering his voice, “she wanted to know what human body parts it has”

Aziraphale looked shocked, tucking the baby closer to his chest, “Well that’s a bit personal don’t you think?”

“Yes Angel, but it will help her in her search”

“But how? That doesn’t mean anything”

“I know that, but the humans think it does.”

“Utterly barbaric” Aziraphale murmured, pursing his lips and laying a gentle hand on the baby’s head, “Don’t you worry little one, the only thing you ever have to be is yourself.”

“Damn right” Crowley agreed emphatically.

~

One night turned into two, then four, a week, a month. Aziraphale stepped into parenthood like an angel filling an angel sized hole. And all Crowley’s nanny talents resurfaced. A new routine formed, and a new step in life seemed to be unfolding. Finally the call came that told the angel and demon what they already knew in their hearts. The baby they’d found was truly alone in the world. Crowley could feel the angel’s joy and relief radiating off him like a small sun. But what Aziraphale felt from his demon was more complicated. He knew Crowley loved the little one. He hadn’t been wrong about that. But there was something else. A shadow that had begun to grow that night they’d first brought the baby home.

Normally Aziraphale would have just asked Crowley what was up, but since the demon hadn’t said anything this whole time, he was trying to wait for Crowley to broach the subject. He was still wondering if he should say something that night as they went to bed (they had both found that with the baby around, they actually rather did need regular rest). But before he could decide what he wanted to do, sleep decided for him. 

Crowley waited until Aziraphale’s breathing leveled out and he had stopped twitching. Then he slowly disentangled his arm from under Airaphale’s sleeping form, and wiggled smoothly out of the bed. Bare feet cold on the floor, he tiptoed out of the room, pausing in the hall to listen, then making his way, pupils huge in the dark, to the spare room. The now baby’s room.

The door was open a crack, and he slowly pushed it just far enough so he could slip through. 

As he neared the crib, he could see the steady rise and fall of the baby’s breath, hear the tiny inhale and exhale as he stood, hands resting casually on the safety rail. No matter how many times they laid the little thing down on its back, it always managed to roll itself over in the night, tucking its knees up under itself, turning itself into a little ball, topped with that wisp of super soft, good smelling fluff. Watching the baby sleep had a lulling, soothing effect that reminded him of the time he’d stopped to watch a snake charmer in a bazar. He’d come to about an hour later, in the middle of the most exotic dance he’d ever performed, surrounded by what looked like the entire city, the ground of the marketplace covered in coins, and the snake charmer’s aggressive proposition to become business partners. 

He found his eyes starting to drift closed, and miracled himself a rocking chair which he lowered himself silently into. 

Carefully trying to arrange his thoughts, Crowley cleared his throat. 

“So here’s the thing” he started, his voice a slither of velvet in the dark, “I want to apologize. I, I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve been keeping my distance. It isn’t you, I just…” he paused, then dove before he could rethink things, “You see, I was thrown away too. When I was, well relatively new to the universe. By somebody… well… The Somebody really, who I trusted, who I thought loved me.” Crowley paused, his gaze leveling on the little ball of sleeping baby, and felt a lump growing in his throat. “So you see… I understand, how you feel. How it felt. And I think you should know… well… I thought it was because there was something wrong with me. For the longest time, I hated myself for whatever it was about me that had made me not worth keeping.” Crowley stared darkly into his memories for a moment, then his gaze brightened, “And then there was Aziraphale, standing on the wall of Eden like a stubborn beacon of light. He listened to me, laughed with me despite himself, and when it started raining, he…” tears welled up in Crowley’s uncovered eyes, and emotion filled his voice, “he just stretched his wing out over me. He didn’t stop to think if I was worth getting wet over, or ask if I deserved it, he just did it. And as the thunder crashed, and the lightening split the sky, I stood under his beautiful, soft, strong wing, watching the rain pelt down all around, and thought, ‘if an Angel like him thinks I’m worth caring for, well, maybe I am. Maybe it wasn’t my fault. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with me.’ And I wished I could tell those poor outcast humans out there in the storm, that there wasn’t anything wrong with them either’”. Crowley shifted forward, his eyes intense, “I never got to tell Adam and Eve, but I sure as hell want you to know. It isn’t your fault. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Crowley sat back again, hesitation entering his voice, “And I’m sorry. I was just afraid that with something as perfect as you around, Aziraphale… well… wouldn’t need me anymore.”

“Oh my dear, stupid demon”

Crowley started to his feet, whipping around to find the Angel watching him from the doorway, and started to babble.

“The baby… I thought I heard something so I came in to check on it… and well… I was just talking to it… not like the plants… oh for, uh, somebody’s sake Angel, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough” Aziraphale walked gently into the room, wrapping two soft arms and two even softer wings around the demon, “Nothing” he stared into Crowley’s eyes to make sure he was heard, “Nothing in this world or any other could ever make me not need you, not want you, or not love you”

Crowley’s heart glowed, and he felt the last scared part of his soul relax. His night black wings wrapping themselves around Aziraphale’s. “What if I’m not perfect?” he asked huskily.

“Oh my dear, of course you aren’t perfect. Neither am I. We aren’t supposed to be.”

“That is” Crowley gestured with his chin toward the sleeping baby,

“Of course it isn’t” Aziraphale shook his head, “Nothing is. And nobody should ever feel like that’s the standard they have to live up to.”

“I thought you were all about standards” Crowley relaxed a little father into Aziraphale’s embrace.

“Absolutely! But perfection? I’m starting to think that doesn’t exist”

“Starting to?” Crowley quirked an eyebrow

“Well, I thought… well for the longest time… that the other Angels, that the Almighty… they were perfect. And I was scared that they’d figure out I wasn’t…”

Crowley made a vehement sound of disagreement, but Aziraphale held up a hand,

“I thought they were perfect, and I was wrong. I thought they were all knowing and understanding and I was wrong. And that’s okay. Because there’s one thing I know for sure is real. And that’s love.”

“Love” Crowley breathed, “Love is perfect”

“In all its imperfection” Aziraphale smiled happily.

Crowley curled his hand behind Aziraphale’s neck, nodding “Yeah, I guess so”

A soft rustling from the crib interrupted them and angel and demon looked over to see the baby rolling itself over in the sudden kind of jerky movement that human infants tend to make when they’re surprised to find themselves awake and not yet sure if the reality they’ve woken up to is the same one they fell asleep in.

Crowley gave Aziraphale one last squeeze before releasing him to take the couple steps to the crib.

The baby waved an arm at him, and broke out into a wide, toothless grin. Reaching easily over the rungs of the crib, Crowley lifted the baby into his arms, settling it against his chest with a supportive hand behind its head, “Well hello little one” he whispered, eye to eye, “Did we wake you up?”

Aziraphale put an arm around Crowley’s shoulder as the baby nestled its face into Crowley’s silk pajama top, “What do you say? Are we ready for this adventure?” the angel asked.

Crowley met his eyes, and understanding passed between them, then he returned his gaze to the baby’s, “What if it doesn’t want us for parents?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Aziraphale asked with genuine surprise.

“Well, you have a point there” Crowley responded with a little bit of his normal cockiness, “And I supposed, we are an angel and a demon so if it turns out that this little human wants to be raised by the King of Egypt, we can make that happen.”

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s shoulder, ““I believe Egypt abolished the monarchy in 1953 darling” 

Crowley gave him “the look” and Aziraphale kissed him impulsively on the nose, “How about we just do our best until it’s old enough to tell us what it wants.”

Crowley considered that, nodding slowly. “Okay. For as long as it needs us”

“As long as it needs us” Aziraphale echoed, gently laying one wing against Crowley’s back.

Neither angel nor demon could know that the baby had in fact chosen them, and was, or course, exactly where, and with whom, it wanted to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well I thought this was going to just be a quick, funny piece of fluff about these two finding an abandoned baby. Turns out they had a lot to say about it. Hope you enjoyed!!


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